


Fresh Start

by necromorphs



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders Needs a Hug, Angst, Friendship, Future Relationship Implied, M/M, kinda angst ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necromorphs/pseuds/necromorphs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ho-ly shit," Varric breathed when the color returned to the Mage's face, and he was relatively dirt free. </p>
<p>Cullen agreed to the sentiment, but couldn't yet voice it. </p>
<p>"Anders?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Dragon Age Kink Meme Part 14, original post found here: 
> 
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?thread=60789242#t60789242
> 
> Complete for now, status may change.

It was rare that Commander Cullen accompany the Inquisitor on a mission, but this wasn't just any mission. 

Varric had all but begged the Inquisitor and Hawke and anybody else who would listen for a trip to Kirkwall. 

"I need to go back, just for a week or so, to see what's going on," he would say. "I just need to see what's going on."

Finally Cassandra put an end to it. 

"We are making a trip to Kirkwall, Mages and Templars be damned. If only to shut that dwarf up." 

Contact with Hawke was made, and the Champion was all too happy to come with his friends. It had only been a month since Adamant, and he had been looking forward to seeing the Inquisitor again. 

And now they were en route to the site of the tipping point of this mess. 

The boat ride made the Inquisitor's stomach roll, and Varric was dozing with his head propped on Hawke's shoulder. Dorian had brought a few books, but was looking rather green himself. 

The whole trip was rather dull. They docked a few miles outside of Kirkwall and then went ashore. It was quiet, save for the sounds of boots falling. 

"It's getting dark," Cullen announced soon after making landfall. "Make camp. I shall scout the area for wildlife. It's dangerous to move around these parts in the night time."

"And less so to be sitting ducks?" Dorian inquired, but Cullen ignored him and went ahead. 

The area seemed clear, almost too clear for Cullen's liking, and he was about to make his way back when he heard a low moan. 

His sword was out in an instant, and he dropped into a fighting stance with ease. When the noise came again, he tracked it, steadying his breathing, ready to strike some unknown animal. 

And then he saw the man. 

A broken staff lay beside the crumpled, shivering heap of robes, and dirty hands scrambled at the ground desperately. Cullen couldn't make out features in the dark, but his face was bloody. 

He sheathed his sword and stooped, gently gathering the Mage into his arms. The man gave a pitiful cry of pain, and Cullen shushed him, turning back to camp. 

"Wounded!" He announced when he was close enough to see the fire. "Clear a place, and get me a potion. Dorian, what do you know about healing magic?" 

Cullen gently laid the Mage down by the fire and piled a blanket on top of him.

"Very little, I'm afraid, Commander. He's a Mage? Lyrium should do for the fatigue, and-"

Cullen waved him off, grabbing for the potions bag. The hum of the lyrium made his veins burn with longing, but he uncorked the bottle and tilted the Mage's head up carefully to feed him the potion. 

"Somebody fetch a rag and water," Cullen said. "I need to clean his face and tend to his wounds." 

Dorian excused himself and returned minutes later with a clean rag and a bucket of water. 

As Cullen cleaned the Mage's face and gave him a few more potions, the man seemed to return to life. 

"Ho-ly shit," Varric breathed when the color returned to the Mage's face, and he was relatively dirt free. 

Cullen agreed to the sentiment, but couldn't yet voice it. 

"Anders?" Hawke sounded beyond incredulous, and he stared hard at the man in front of him. 

It took Anders a moment to focus on the faces around him before he started scrambling to get away. 

"Wait!" Cullen said, and the harshness of his voice made Anders flinch. "Please, wait, you're not well."

Collectively, the camp goers looked at Cullen, surprised. Varric most of all. 

"Curly, now might not be the time to mention this, but you do realize-"

"I realize, Master Tethras," Cullen said, holding his hand up. "But he isn't well, and it's dangerous for him to be on the road by himself. He'll come with us."

"The Maker has a sense of humor indeed," Hawke grumbled. 

\--

It had been three weeks, and Anders had joined the Inquisition, after a passionate plea to be allowed to make things right. 

Cassandra was beside herself, hissing and spitting the whole way, but the Inquisitor finally agreed to let him stay. 

Cullen was put in charge of him, much to Anders' dismay, but the Commander was surprisingly gentle. He found a room in Skyhold away from the masses, supplied Anders with books and even a new staff. 

The stipulation was that Anders had to help with the healing, which he had absolutely no problem with. It suited him, Cullen thought as he watched Anders work wonders over the sick and wounded. As long as the Mage was putting his magic to good use, Cassandra kept her tantrums about him to a dull roar. 

The third month of Anders' stay, the Mage found his way up onto the battlements where Cullen was leaned over the low wall, taking deep breaths. 

"It hurts you, doesn't it?" Anders asked. 

"Maker!" Cullen jumped and then winced. "I'm sorry?"

"Withdrawals. From the lyrium. You're not taking it anymore."

"How do you know that?"

"Cole told me. You know, in the Circle I was in, we made this potion to soothe withdrawal symptoms," Anders said. He leaned against the wall beside Cullen. "Mages have them, too, you know. It works really well, and I always have some in storage. I can bring some to you." 

Cullen looked surprised. 

"You'd do that? For me?"

"Why not?"

"I'm a Templar."

"I was under the impression that you are an ex-Templar, Commander Cullen. And I'm an ex-Let's Blow Shit Up. I think we can make a friendship out of this," Anders said. "Or more, maybe."

Cullen felt heat rising to his cheeks. "I think I'll take you up on the offer."

"Of the 'more' or the potions?"

"The... Maker's breath, the potions. Why does this happen to me?" Cullen cleared his throat. "Thank you, Anders. You're... A good man."

"For a Mage, you mean."

"No. For any man."


End file.
